


R.I.P To My Youth

by TameAVagrantLion



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: M/M, Short One Shot, Songfic, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TameAVagrantLion/pseuds/TameAVagrantLion
Summary: Jughead is having the worst day of his life so he hides away to smoke a cig, only to find out it was someone else's hiding spot too.Inspired by the song "R.I.P 2 My Youth" by The Neighbourhood.





	R.I.P To My Youth

**R.I.P 2 My Youth**

_~_ _Im using white lighters to see what’s in front of me_ _~_

 

Jughead hated smoking.

It reminded him of his father, and therefore, of everything he never wanted to become. But in moments like this one, where he was forcefully reminded that he didn’t belong anywhere, that he didn’t have a home, nor a family, he couldn’t help but try to hide his fears behind the smoke of some shoplifted Lucky Strikes. Not the healthiest way to deal with anxiety, but it sure beat having to tell anyone that he was, once again, left homeless. This time by the closing of the Twilight drive-in cinema, that had been is home for the past seven months. He had no idea where to go next, but the uncertainty didn’t scare him anymore. He was past caring and, in truth, anywhere was better than the torn down trailer park his father lived in. And so, that left him sitting on the dumpster behind Riverdale high, unsure what to do next, apart from finishing his cigarette before he got caught.

That’s when he saw Reggie Mantle come around the corner of the building, a cig already hanging from his lips and apparently looking for a lighter. Normally, his first thought would have been to bolt, but something kept him in place. Maybe he was just tired of running from these kinds of idiots, or maybe he just didn’t find the thought of fighting someone that appalling today, even if he was sure to lose. He was entertaining that thought when Reggie saw him, stopped in his tracks and looked at him. Surprised at first, and then with a scowl that suggested that he didn’t like either the fact that there was someone else in his preferred smoking spot, or the fact that the someone was Jughead. Probably both. Jughead scowled right back.

“What are you doing here, Donnie Darko?” Reggie said, taking the cigarette off his mouth and coming threateningly closer.

Jughead took a drag and calmly said, “Same as you”.

He looked tired, and older somehow, Reggie thought. Dude was clearly not having a great day, as evidenced by the lack of a comeback or a witty one-liner as was usual for him. Reggie was grateful for it though, he could use a break from the fighting himself. God knew all he wanted was to have a cig or two before having to go home and get yelled at for failing most mid-terms this semester, again. So, he leaned on the wall next to Jughead and said “Well, I need a light so…” He paused and looked at Jughead. “I won’t tell if you don’t”. Jughead tried to hide his surprise at this apparent truce while taking out his white bic lighter from his jeans’ back pocket and offering it to Reggie without a word.

Reggie looked at it and hesitated a moment before taking it.

“Not the superstitious kind, are you?” he said.

“What?” Jughead looked confused.

“The lighter, I mean.”

Jughead furrowed his brow and shook his head, not understanding what Reggie meant and still perplexed by the fact that they were having an actual _conversation_.

“Wow, a little bit of trivia you don’t know, never thought I’d live to see the day.” Reggie said smugly. “You see, there’s this urban myth that all those artists that died at 27… Cobain, Hendrix, Morrison, they all had these white bic lighters in their pockets. It’s supposed to be a curse or whatever.” He then handed it back to Jughead, who was looking at him rather oddly, as if it was the first time he had ever heard the jock say something remotely interesting or smart. He suddenly realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes, cleared his throat and said “Yeah. Well. Good luck I’m not an artist then”.

“Well, curse or no curse, if we keep smoking like this we won’t last much longer than they did.”

That sparked Jughead’s curiosity. How often did Reggie do this? Before he could stop himself, he heard himself ask “How long have you been doing this?”, trying to sound nonchalant and falling short of succeeding.

Reggie didn’t reply right away. He fell silent and when Jughead started to think he might not get a response, he heard “Ever since my dad left home. 2 years ago.” His voice was so quiet Jughead almost didn’t hear him.

Jughead had never stopped to think what Reggie’s life could be like. He’d always assumed everything was handed to him, that he had as perfect a life as was possible in this crap town. He never imagined Reggie had to go through the same thing he had, and he weirdly felt a sense of empathy towards him. That’s probably what made him reply “Yeah, mom left 2 years ago too.” And giving a sad smile he added “But hey, at least _you_ have a roof over your head”. He instantly regretted it. He hadn’t told anyone about his current situation, nor did he plan to. He didn’t want any pity, didn’t need any help. Why had he said this to Reggie, of _all people_?! He felt a surge of panic rise in his chest. Maybe he would not think anything of his words, he would dismiss them as an optimistic remark but, what if he started asking questions? Just to be sure, Jughead quickly decided to do what he did best, to beat a hasty retreat.

“Nice chat, Mantle, but coach Clayton will kill me if I skip another gym class. See ya”. He threw his cigarette butt in the ground and, stepping on it indifferently, grabbed the bag containing most of his belongings and started walking away, not giving Reggie a single look.

 

* * *

 

Despite common belief, Reginald Mantle wasn’t stupid. He was observant. He noticed things. He noticed how Keller and Moose seemed to conveniently disappear at the same time. He noticed Betty and Veronica holding hands under the table at lunch. And he sure as hell noticed Jughead was hiding something. And he was dying to know what. If anyone asked, Reggie would have said that it was out of pure curiosity, but the truth was he was somewhat worried about the mysterious boy-sleuth. He could tell that he had a shit home life, although he didn’t know how much, and he suspected his friends didn’t either. And against his better judgement, he found himself following Jughead, trying to figure him out. That’s how he found out Jughead was literally living in the school. He had no idea since when, or how he managed not to be discovered, but when he stayed after class to see where Jughead went, he saw him put his backpack in a laundry closet in the back of a rarely used hallway and head to the showers, despite not having had gym class that day.

He felt he needed to do something. The guy didn’t deserve this, but he had no idea what happened to make him live this way and he wasn’t about to confront him about it, it really was none of his business. Besides, he knew Jughead wouldn’t appreciate him meddling in his affairs.

And so, if Archie got an anonymous note to head to a certain abandoned laundry closet at 6pm the next day, Reggie wouldn’t know anything about it. And of course, he didn’t notice how since that day Jughead seemed to be a little happier, head held a little higher. And he most definitely didn’t feel very happy for him.

**Author's Note:**

> awfully short isn't it? Please review! It is greatly appreciated. Let me know if you hated or loved it and why, thanks for reading!


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